The Day After
by Psyched
Summary: Post-ep: What happens the day after the Season 4 finale? GS


A.N. You know how it goes—I don't own 'em, and I don't make any money from 'em.

I owe Alison a debt of gratitude for taking the time to beta this and for all her words of wisdom.

..........

When her house phone rang in the middle of the afternoon, Sara Sidle had no intention of answering it. If it was a sales call, she predicted she had a fifty-fifty chance of having to listen to the telemarketer leave a message. A right number – wrong person was her next best guess. She'd had this phone number for nearly four years now, and she still occasionally received calls for the person, Philip somebody, who must have had it before her. She estimated the chances as slim to none that the caller was actually someone she knew, and even less that it was someone she _wanted_ to talk to.

"_Sara, it's Grissom…_"

There was a pause, in which she could practically hear him searching for the words to say next. She remained on the couch, the phone across the apartment in the kitchen. She was surprised Grissom would be calling, and on her home phone, no less. She had been certain that after his compassionate and physical behavior last night that he would freeze her out for the foreseeable future.

And to be honest, that would be fine by Sara. After having him be witness to her most humiliating moment, she wasn't exactly looking forward to seeing him tonight, either.

"_I, uh, wanted to see how you were doing…and I, um, thought if you needed a ride to pick up your car from impound, I could bring you._"

He was checking up on her. Sara was not sure how to take that. His tone sounded sincere enough, but she couldn't help but think he just wanted to see if she was hung over. Or drinking again.

"_Since you weren't ar—since they let you go home last night, you should be able to get your car back with no problem, but the longer you wait, the more it'll cost…_"

Shit! He was rambling now. He probably assumed she did not want to talk to him and figured that if he kept up his informative little monologue, she'd pick up just to shut him up.

He was right.

She made it to the phone in short order, wanting nothing more than to be left alone for the next several hours, but not willing to subject herself to Grissom trying to…do whatever he was trying to do any longer.

She picked up the handset and deliberated a moment before hitting the talk button. When she did, she didn't know what to say. She had no idea how to respond to him anymore.

"Sara? Are you there?"

"I'm here."

"Oh. Good. I thought I heard you pick up."

"Good ears."

"Did I wake you?"

"No."

"How…how are you doing?"

"Fine. Thank you." This was more difficult than she'd anticipated.

"Did you hear my message? I was just saying that--"

"No. I mean, yes, I heard you."

"So…do you want me to bring you to get your car?"

"That's okay, Grissom. You don't need to bother."

"It's not a bother."

"Really, I'll take a cab or something." It's not like she was about to call Nick or Warrick for a ride.

"Sara." He said her name much the same way he always did. The romantic in her used to love the way he said it; almost on a sigh. This time it made her cringe. She pulled the phone a few inches away from her ear to ease the pain a bit as he continued.

"I'd really like to take you to pick up your car. I was thinking we could use the ride to…talk."

"Couldn't we just have this discussion at work tonight?" So that's what this was all about--the lecture he refrained from treating her to last night. Well, if she had to sit and listen to Gil Grissom tell her how disappointed he was, she sure as hell wanted to do it later rather than sooner.

"I don't think that would be appropriate."

Not appropriate? What was planning to do, ream her a new asshole? "Fine. Have it your way. When will you be here?" Sara supposed she should probably not add fuel to what would likely be a conflagration, but she could not help the testy tone of her voice.

"Be ready in an hour?"

"Sure." She hung up without waiting for a reply.

..........

The five minutes since Sara had entered Grissom's car were spent in silence. They had about twenty minutes ahead of them, maybe more with the traffic. And as much as she was not looking forward to this conversation, she did not think she could handle any more time watching Grissom's mouth periodically open, then close again, as he apparently searched for his opening remark.

"You look like a guppy, you know."

"What?"

"Just say it. Stop thinking about it, and just spit it out."

"It's not that easy, Sara."

"Sure it is. I'll help start you off. How about, 'I'm really disappointed in you, Sara.' Or, 'You're lucky you were pulled over by a sympathetic cop, and luckier still that you didn't kill yourself or someone else!' And let's not forget, 'What the hell were thinking? _Were_ you even thinking?'"

The look on his face was one of shock. What did he think, that she would just sit there waiting patiently and then meekly take notes on his diatribe? She was humiliated last night by just his appearance at the police station, but she was beginning to wish he had let loose and confronted her then.

Instead, he'd taken her hand and gently offered to bring her home. It was all she could do to hold back the tears at the unexpected tenderness. He'd tugged at her hand to encourage her to stand, and when she did, he draped his arm across her back to hold on to her other arm and led her to his car, held firmly to his side. During the ride to her place, the only words he spoke were filled with concern for her, 'Are you alright?' and 'Do you need anything?'

"That's not exactly what I was going for."

Now it was Sara's turn to look surprised. "It's not?"

"No. I didn't think you needed me to tell you what you obviously already knew. And apparently, I was right."

"You mean to say you're not mad at me?"

"Believe it or not, Sara, anger never entered into it."

"Then what did? Disappointment? Relief that you'd given the promotion to the more responsible CSI?"

"Fear."

He said it so plainly, so clearly, yet Sara still doubted what she heard.

"I don't understand."

"I was afraid. For you. That you could have been hurt. I knew you weren't, but I realized that you _could've_ been."

Sara did not reply. Once again, she did not know what to say. She was not used to Gil Grissom being so straightforward.

"On the drive to the PD, it struck me that I haven't been a very good friend to you lately. I guess I've known it for a while, but never really let myself dwell on it for too long. But that thought just wouldn't leave me alone last night."

Sara continued to watch him as he spoke. His eyes were straight ahead, on the road, which was probably the only thing that allowed him to reveal so much.

When he had the opportunity to do so, Grissom glanced at her. "Sara?"

"I'm sorry…I just, I wasn't expecting this. I thought for sure I was going to get a lecture, peppered with a few choice expressions of your displeasure."

He smiled slightly at that. "I don't think I could say anything more effective than you've already come up with yourself. Besides, from what I know of Sara Sidle, you're the type of person to learn from your mistakes. I've never seen you make the same one twice."

Sara nodded, "Everything in life's a learning experience. My parents taught me that."

"Someone once told me that her personal philosophy was to 'never doubt and never look back.' At the time, I admired her for it, thought it was a good idea. But I've since come to understand that there's a major flaw inherent in that mind-set. If you don't look back on your decisions, never doubt the choices you've made, how will you ever improve or change?"

"You won't," Sara said wearily, dropping her head and staring at her clenched hands. She should have known he wouldn't be able to resist injecting some kind of warning into their talk, even if it wasn't a full-blown lecture.

"And I haven't." She heard him inhale deeply before continuing, "I regret that, Sara. Looking back on the past year or so, I know I've made some mistakes. And I'd like the opportunity to try to rectify them."

"How?" Sara could barely get the word out. She was nothing short of floored by this turn in their conversation. So much so that she couldn't look at him just yet.

"I'd like for us to be friends again. I hate this…tension between us."

"Me too." She wondered if the disappointment at his desire to only be friends was evident in her voice.

When they stopped at a red light, Grissom continued softly, "And then perhaps see where it goes from there."

Sara's head snapped up. "Don't say that just because you think it's what I want to hear, Grissom."

He looked her in the eyes for a long moment. "I wouldn't do that to you." When the light changed, he turned his attention back to the road. "But I can't make any promises either, Sara. At least not now."

"I'm not asking for any. It's just that…I thought you couldn't do it." When she caught the look on Grissom's face, Sara knew his thoughts were exactly where hers were: his comments to a suspected murderer about the young, beautiful woman who had captivated his attention and offered him a new life with her if only he were willing to take the risk. But Grissom wasn't, and he had admitted it as clear as day: "I couldn't do it."

Sara had never told Grissom that she had overheard his confession. She wondered now if he would figure it out. She hoped not; Sara had no intention of getting into that discussion right now. She understood that if they were ever really going to progress past friendship, they would have to talk about it at some point, but that was a long way off. It took a long time for their friendship to erode; she knew they couldn't rebuild it overnight.

"To be honest, I still don't know if I can. But I'm willing to keep an open mind, if and when the time comes…even if I don't know what to do about it." He offered her a self-depreciating grin. The truth was all he had to give at the moment, and he trusted it would be sufficient for now.

It was.

"Fair enough."

They pulled up to the impound yard minutes later. As she was walking away from the car, Grissom called to Sara. Returning, she leaned in the passenger side window.

"You hungry?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I could eat."

"There's an Indian restaurant not too far from here. Want to meet me there for a friendly lunch?"

She offered him a small smile before responding, "I think I'd like that."

"I'll go get us a table."

Nodding, Sara turned away again, slowly allowing a full-blown smile to bloom.

Fin


End file.
